


A Question Answered

by the_butler



Category: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/F, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 15:50:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17707163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_butler/pseuds/the_butler
Summary: “Why ask? Why ask now? We’ve been corporal and sergeant for several weeks now and this is when you thought of asking me?”





	A Question Answered

**Author's Note:**

> My very first Discworld fanfic, and it’s a pretty short read. Just to answer a question I had at the end of the book. I do like these two characters together. Thanks for reading.

Mal lounged against a tree, a rolled up cigarette fashionably dangling down the side of her mouth. She looked bored, but then again all vampires had that look of fancy boredom- ennui- even during the middle of battle. She uncrossed her arms to pick the cigarette and give it a flick, before placing it back the same place. 

“Mmm, Ozz- I mean Sarge.” Mal started, as she gave the cigarette another flick after a drag. No one else would have gotten away with that- with the casual way the vampire corporal addressed her infamous sergeant. Said infamous sergeant was in the middle of training the new female cadets how to actually handle a sword but more importantly how to win a fight when your male opponent is still laughing at the sight of you holding a sword. The world had heard of females in the Borogravian army now, but well, not all of them has met one. In many ways the world was still trying to catch up, ironically, to the little backwards country that for only a few years ago was still following the increasingly crazy Abominations of a long dead god. One of the last few was against jigsaw puzzles.

Sergeant Polly Perks, or Ozzer as Mal insists on addressing her in informal occasions, huffed and stood up, nodded to the female cadets and said “that’s it for now my lads” and saw them disperse into twos and threes, practicing with the wooden swords some of the moves they had just learned. It was sort of bittersweet to see them so keen- she remembered when they were “little lads” to the more infamous Sergeant Jackrum, now retired. Oh, some of them were keen, only they were keen on pursuing personal matters that then meant the world to them. And then, the world turned upside down, and suddenly personal matters weren’t all that mattered anymore. If you only acted when it directly affected you, then you were already too late. This was one of the lessons Polly learned in that strange, transformative time of her life. And so the moment she heard of another stupid conflict brewed by the same stupid people- well she didn’t wait for it to get to the doors of The Duchess. She wondered if this was the same for Mal. Speaking of which-

“Yes, Corporal?”

The vampire stood upright and gave the cigarette a final drag before stubbing it out on the tree and throwing it away. “I was wondering, have you heard from any of... the others. I did not exactly keep in touch, although I know of Igorina’s little practice. Doing wonderfully, last I heard. A lot of female patients. All female patients, to be precise.” 

“Yes... why did you not keep in touch?”

To this, Mal only smiled her lazy, toothsome smile. 

“Writing my name would have required a whole page unto itself.” 

The sergeant gave her a look in reply. Mal shrugs. 

“I was... busy. Let’s leave it at that, shall we?”

“Oh, well. If you say it like that...” Polly began sarcastically, and then gave up midway the sentence. Did it matter why Mal decided to up and disappear after everything, only to reappear and “try again” like the vampire said, be here as her corporal? The initial sheepish look giving way to something else, something... She shook her head as if to dislodge the thought. She crossed her arms and looked out towards the now empty yard, away from the vampire. The next words were said in a sing song voice. “Betty is the cook at The Duchess, of course, and Alice is in General Froc’s household. She writes from time to time you see, she’s doing well and they’re taking care of her. Igorina you already know, Jade is off with her troll beau last I know, and Magda and Tilda are... oh who knows where? Hopefully somewhere where...”

“They can sit in the dark watching plays while eating chocolate?”

“... yes.” 

“That would be nice for them. And good ol’ Jackrum retired for good?”

Polly hesitated, and then continued, “yes. Found his son and lives with them now. I dare say he’s earned it.”

Mal nods. “Good.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why ask? Why ask now? We’ve been corporal and sergeant for several weeks now and this is when you thought of asking me?”

Another carefree shrug. 

“I don’t know, Ozz. I just felt like asking you, that’s all.”

“Oh?”

“Perhaps I just wanted your attention.” Polly couldn’t help but turn to look at the vampire, who was again stylishly leaning against the tree, arms crossed and smiling devilishly. Polly’s face instantly felt hot, and she could not look away. Perhaps this was one of the vampire’s powers? Right? Didn’t they possess mesmerism as an innate skill? Oh, sugar. 

She finally got herself too look away but by then she knew her face would have been very red. She glowered at the ground. 

“Why are you here, Mal? Why? Is it really that hard to be a rich nobby vampire? Do you even have anything to fight for?”

Mal’s smile dropped and she looked quietly serious for a few moments. It’s true- being a rich nobby vampire was easy, and she didn’t have to be in the army to escape the rigid gender roles foisted on female vampires. She could have very well just left Borogravia and traveled the world. Hell, she could’ve gone to Ankh-Morpork, where vampires like her can reinvent themselves and live true to the Black Ribboner code in an easier fashion as compared to here. But she couldn’t, could she? 

“Well, let me put it this way...” The vampire started as she closed the distance between her and Polly. “... have you heard of the song ‘Sweet Polly Olliver’, Ozz? Of course you have.” She reached out to touch- a hand to an elbow that felt like electric shock. Polly made to move away, but Mal was too fast- a vampire, remember- and caught her hand. 

As sweet Polly Oliver lay musing in bed,  
A sudden strange fancy came into her head.  
"Nor father nor mother shall make me false prove,  
I'll 'list as a soldier, and follow my love."

Mal half sang, half whispered. Polly finally looked up and saw... honesty. There in the vampire’s eyes, words that they could not express between them. And now, if she thought she was red before, she must be a curious shade now, enough to warrant Igorina’s medical interest. A shout of “Sergeant Perks!” broke their tableau, and it was the vampire who answered, “what is the matter, private?” while reaching into her pocket and lighting another cigarette, she gave Polly a wink before sauntering towards the person who so rudely interrupted. 

Polly shook her head violently as if to wake from a reverie. The hand that was held so tenderly and yet let go so quickly mildly trembled from what may only be shock. She glared at it and then stuffed it into a pocket. She looked back and saw Mal cooly smoke a cigarette a way off, listening to a quite agitated looking private. The vampire had that half-bored look on her face again. How could she be so cool? Polly wrinkled her nose and tried not to blush again. As she walked purposefully towards her... her corporal, she murmurs, “well, that answered my questions, I think.”


End file.
